Where to begin? I could begin at my birth I suppose but I think not. No instead I think I should begin with a far more momentous occasion, my death, to melodramatic? very well just before then.
I was born Carigus, third son of Venixamus Lord of the Hill fort of Baddow in the lands of the Trinovantes in the year 70bc. My farther and eldar brothers looked down on me and I was destined to inherit little but a small farmsted.
When I turn 13 my farther takes me hunting, together we bring down a magnificent stag. It is one of the last times he will be kind to me, gifting me with his fathers bow in honour of the occasion.
I first met Caius Acilius Scaevola when he arrived at my fathers hall in the year 47bc with his troops in an arrangement between our people and the Romans. My farther sent him and his men to barrack upon my farmstead to which I took umbridge at first. Scaevola was however a courteous gust and a fine hunting companion, possessing an uncanny knack for spotting prey in the dark. It was odd that I did not see him during the day but at the time I was busy with the farm work and paid it no mind, in retrospect perhaps I was "encouraged" to ignore it.
I was to find out the truth of Scaevola's nature one night when he returned from fighting gravely injured, when I went to help him he attacked me in a frenzy, clawing me with sudden talons and biting me deep in my neck. To this day the wounds he left upon my back have never truly healed, they do not bleed but nor do they close or scar.
I died that night.
The next night I awoke to a new life. and just as the first birth this birth was heralded by blood and pain and screams. When I awoke I could barely think for my throat burned with a first I could not quench, though I tried. The water from the well did not suffice, nor did the ale, nor wine. It was then I beheld the farmhand, bleeding from a hand cut by the bottle I had thrown at him in my frustration that I discovered what would quench my thirst. I attacked him in a frenzy all sanity lost not to return until I was sated, sitting in the ruins the people I had lived and worked with near enough my entire life, cradling the broken and ruined body of poor Cariaus the little brother I loved so and who's life I had taken.
I fled then, overcome by shame and panic at what I had done. Perhaps if I had stayed Scaevola would have taught me, but then again perhaps not. I spent several years hiding in the woods, hunting dear and draining them, it was a meagre living but at least I was not hurting anyone. As time passed I found my senses sharpening, I could see more hear more and smell more than I could when I was mortal. I wonder If we are all like this for I had noticed Scaevola moving confidently in the dark with no need of a torch.
I wandered for a time hiding from people lest they see what I had become. Eventually I found my way to Litania hoping perhaps she could help me, or forgive me for I could not forgive myself.
I had been foolish in fasting for so long for in her first embrace I smelt her blood and lost myself again. This time I brought myself back before she was completely gone and in my panic and horror at what I had done thought to put the blood I had stolen from her back, yet in so doing I cursed her just as I had been cursed.
I fled and hid myself off from the world feeding on animals until after years spent in hiding I thought to return to the farm, I felt perhaps I had sufficient control. I found my Father there, old and angry and ready to rally all about against the monster who had killed his "Favourite" son. I lost my temper at his hypocrisy, he never cared for Cariaus, No he only cared that someone had taken what was his. I tore him apart then and barely escaped my brother Cenicus and his men as they closed the trap upon the murderer. My second brother Vecatus gathered men to pursue me, they new well my skill in hunting and that I had been hiding in the woods. So I left those days behind me and took work as a farm hand in the lands near Camulodunum. My nocturnal preference was thought odd but there was work for a skilled hand to watch the flock at night.
Vecatus and his men come for me one night in the fields, they had spent more time and effort asking after me by description than I had thought and the farming communities are small, a new face stood out more than I thought. They set the field ablaze to corner me, at the sight of the spreading flames I am gripped with an all consuming panic as if I am a horse chased by wolves. I flee into the night. After my panic subsides I resolve to travel further afield and escrew all contact with people once again. I make my way north and eak out a life among the fenlands. The long travel and shifting landmarks of the fens teach me to navigate by the stars. On the few occasions I meet people I choose to use the name Dagan in hopes it will throw off any pursuit.
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